


Earned

by VitaLupum



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Gen, Non-shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitaLupum/pseuds/VitaLupum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ylvisåker brotherly love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earned

            Vegard really didn’t want to be at the party.

            Normally he wouldn’t have minded – a bit of a drink, a chance to relax around everyone, to not think about filming _IKMY_ and just hang out with people? That was his idea of an awesome time.

            But tonight, he felt a little ill, and he just wanted to be at home with Helene and the kids, and Bård looked as if he was gearing up to get exceptionally wasted. Which meant he would be sick, probably on someone. Which meant Vegard would have to take him home. Which meant he would be sick in Vegard’s car. Vegard sighed.

            He wasn’t feeling particularly charitable towards Bård tonight anyway; truth be told, he was tempted to go home now. He was used to Bård being an arrogant little shit, always using his mouth before using his brain… but that’d all changed the other day. It had been a typical interview, when Bård had been asked about Vegard. His reply had left Vegard hurting a little in the pit of his stomach.

            Bård had simply said that sometimes, he wished Vegard wasn’t his brother.

            Now, he hadn’t meant it in the way it had come out; Vegard knew his brother well, and he knew that Bård often opened his mouth and spat out his thoughts without using a verbal spellcheck. But there was a tiny voice in his head now, and he heard it a lot whenever he saw Bård laughing with someone else, or chatting to someone else. And what made is worse was that it wasn’t even Bård’s voice he heard. It was his own. And as they said, the first sign of madness was talking to yourself.

            _He’d rather you fucked off home too_.

            Bård was over the other side of the room, being introduced to some suited guy with stupid gelled hair and a shirt that was a size or two too small.

            _Maybe he’d be a better brother than you_.

            “Shut up,” Vegard growled, and then remembered that the second sign of madness was answering back. He made his way over. Maybe he could talk Bård into not drinking as much.

            “…is that your brother with the dark, curly hair?”

            He stopped short, hiding behind a conveniently located table. He was visible, but if he didn’t draw attention to himself, he could at least hear what Bård was saying about him.

            “Yeah, that’s Vegard,” Bård grinned. “Why? I’m afraid he doesn’t swing that way…” Trust Bård to immediately go there.

            “Oh, no, I just saw him before. He looked fucking miserable,” the guy laughed. Vegard mentally flipped him the bird. He could try looking happy, when he had as many things going on in his head as Vegard did. “Does he always look like that?”

            Bård laughed, but didn’t say anything, instead taking a drink.

            “I mean, he wasn’t even drinking. Are you sure he’s your brother?” the man asked, before taking an unhealthy-sized swig of vodka. “I thought one sibling was meant to get the looks and the other the brains. What was it like to get both?”

            Vegard wished Bjarte was there. The two of them could probably punch the man into a small, embarrassed, puddle of blood and teeth on the floor. And Bård did nothing; instead, he just laughed again.

            “Well, I can sure understand why you said you wish he wasn’t your brother. Goddamn, if I had a brother like that…” the man said, and Vegard felt his eyes fill with angry, embarrassed tears. Oh god, Bård was just smiling at the man, he was just nodding and smiling and _laughing_ …

            _Smack_.

            Vegard blinked, the moment frozen into his mind. Bård was now standing upright, fist extended, hackles raised, a look of contempt on his face; the man was sprawled on the floor, hands clutching at his nose, horrified. Everyone had gone silent and was staring in their direction.

            “You don’t get to talk shit about my brother,” Bård said pleasantly, straightening up. “I do. I’ve lived with him all my life. I’ve earned it.” He delivered a swift kick to the man’s ribs, more to cause the man to jump than to hurt him at all. “You don’t. You will never, ever be nearly as good a guy as Vegard.” He adjusted his jacket, and then looked up, searching the crowd for the elder Ylvisåker, who stepped out of the circle that had spontaneously formed around Bård. He would love that, Vegard thought shakily as he approached his younger sibling. “Vegard, I think we’ve gotta leave, and I am way too fucking drunk to drive… can you take me home?”

            As they walked out, Vegard heard someone – Calle, he assumed – shout ‘ _That was fucking awesome_!’.

            “I’m sorry to make a scene,” Bård said casually as they walked to Vegard’s car, and the man spontaneously hugged his younger brother. Bård grimaced, struggling out of the embrace, and Vegard grinned as he opened the car door.

            “Sometimes, I’m glad you’re my younger brother,” he laughed, and the little voice in his head was silenced.


End file.
